


the beast you've made of me

by cluelesspaladin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Antok backstory, Canon-Typical Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mates, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, This fic has art, Ulaz is endlessly amused, canon character death, endgame kolivan/antok, hanahaki is an evolutionary condition, kolivan backstory, kolivan/thace - Freeform, kolivan/thace/ulaz - Freeform, kolivan/ulaz - Freeform, mention of Galra societal habits, mentions of scarring, poly relationships are A-okay in Galra culture, relationship progression, vld hanahaki bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:54:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23090539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cluelesspaladin/pseuds/cluelesspaladin
Summary: Hanahaki is a strange condition. One that stems from the ancient days of pure-blooded Galra, it was “bred” out of the bloodlines of Zarkon’s soldiers; viewed a weakness in the ranks. Now, only select lines of Galra and hybrids carry the recessive gene of the condition.Kolivan knew he had the potential to carry it. His dam had warned him of the possibility many varga ago- he just never suspected that he would live to see it slowly consume him from the inside out.-a hanahaki fic told in four parts.
Relationships: Kolivan & Antok, Kolivan/Antok, Kolivan/Thace, Kolivan/Thace/Ulaz, Kolivan/Ulaz (Voltron)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10
Collections: VLD Hanahaki Bang





	1. Act I: Ulaz

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was written for the VLD Hanahaki event! I was blessed to have the most amazing and understanding artist, francowitch- their contributions to this piece can be found [HERE](https://twitter.com/francowitch/status/1237166738732654593?s=20)

**Act I: Ulaz**

Kolivan met Ulaz during their first mission together.

Ulaz was fresh out of the academy, his medical skill in the field some of the highest that the Galra had seen on their side.

Kolivan himself was still learning the ropes of being in Galra command, but was quickly climbing the chain of command. Given his own unit, issued orders to patrol some far corner of the Galran Empire until so forth ordered. A couple of just-shy-of-backwater planets.

Skirmishes weren’t uncommon, being on the fringes of the Galra Empire. Rebels and the like were willing to take the risk in order to see if they could win back even a fraction of what had been taken. Kolivan wanted to let them, but then his cover would truly be blown and he would be dead before he managed to make it off planet.

When the first fighters descended planet side, he wasn’t in a hurry to go out and get himself shot at in name of a cover. But he did, and here he was, in the thick of the fight with a bloody hole in his side and thick blood covering one eye. Someone else in the unit had seen and barked for a medic gruffly before taking off somewhere further down the field, leaving Kolivan to wonder if this was already the end of a short beginning.

Ulaz was still a mystery to him. He had weighed his thoughts heavily on the matter since Ulaz’s approval for transfer to the small planet and had yet to come to a decision. It was distinctly possible that the other male could just be a decent hearted Galra just as tired and weary of the conflict in the Empire and desperate enough to become a medic for the cause. Or, a slimmer possibility, he could be another agent for the Blade of Marmora.

Either way, it’s hard to deny that his talents would be wasted otherwise. He’s still young, but then again, they both are- but Kolivan wasn’t picked for this mission for just _any_ reason and he isn’t about to miss getting his intelligence back to base.

Kolivan isn’t certain how long he’s been lying there, half hidden behind debris and bleeding out, but he does register Ulaz’s arrival. The lighter skinned Galra slides in next to him with brutal efficiency, hands already buried in his pack as he gets to work. He does know he blacks out for a handful of agonizing seconds when the other male peels the charred fabric of his suit away from the damaged skin on his side, making a displeased noise in the back of his throat before a muttered apology makes its way to Kolivan’s ears.

He figures out why a tick later when one of the antiseptic patches is pushed against the wound, earning a pained cry and every inch of his body tensing at the new source of discomfort. Sure, he’d been shot before, but this was certainly the first time to this degree and severity.

Kolivan might have blacked out again- the next time he blinked, Ulaz was tapping his cheek with a claw, brows furrowed over his eyes.

“Try to stay awake.” He advised. “I’d rather not have to drag you back to base.”

(It was exactly what Ulaz ended up doing anyway once the painkillers kicked in.)

Kolivan felt himself tipping over before he realized that he was doing so, Ulaz grunting as he was suddenly burdened with the entirety of Kolivan’s weight against his shoulder. He probably should have known it was coming, what with how much blood there was and how long he’d been left on his own before Ulaz had shown up, but he was allowed to hope anyway.

“Quiznak.” Kolivan heard himself say, as if from a great distance. A heavy fog descended upon his thoughts like smoke, and he blinked slowly again as Ulaz cursed somewhere nearby. No amount of claws digging into his shoulders or face was enough to bring him out of it. Odd, considering Kolivan did not usually have this problem with antiseptic patches.

He tucked that hazy thought somewhere in the back of his mind to analyze more deeply later; three seconds later, he toppled forward.

(Later, he would wake up with no recollection of the events and his superiors informing him that he was being pulled from his assignment in order to recover. Leader had been two parts deeply unamused and one part slightly amused to inform him that while under the effects of whatever Ulaz had given him, he had been rather… uninhibited… in his thoughts.)

It turned out that due to his inability to keep his mouth shut and his inhibiting of the medic’s work, Ulaz had been brought in with Kolivan as well. However, even after checking in on the patients in the med-bay, Ulaz refused to look him in the eye, his fur bristling slightly every time that Kolivan met his gaze.

Another source of embarrassment for him later down the line, when one of his fellow operatives almost gleefully informed him that he had told Ulaz- in _great detail_ as he was being sewn up, that his eyes glimmered like starlight. Amongst other things.

More surprisingly, however, was that despite those things, Ulaz did not outright deny any of the advances that Kolivan had inadvertently hurled into his face. Rather, he seemed… open? To the idea of courting with the other male.

Which then left Kolivan a flushed, stuttering mess once he’d been discharged from the medic’s care and had to go about realizing that no, he had truly meant those things, and he intended to inquire if something more official could be done about it.

(Short answer, yes.)

They built their relationship in leaps and bounds. Apparently, having absolutely no filter to speak of whilst under the effects of some kind of potent medication was enough to bridge any awkwardness that they might have shared otherwise; within several cycles, the pair were hardly seen without the other. 

Later, it becomes a clear point of contention between Kolivan and Leader, but ultimately, how could they deny the one thing that they were trying to fight toward with every sacrifice and mission made?

Besides, it’s outright undeniable that the pair complement one another. Even if they can be a bit… outspoken on some matters.


	2. Act II: Thace

**Act II: Thace**

Thace is… prickly. At best.

Anyone would be quick to tell one another as such; the male is just that kind of character.

Not to say it was due to a lack of training- Kolivan had been tasked with the job the moment that he’d received word that command were bringing in a new recruit and that Kolivan was to be the one responsible for his training. Come to think of it, it was probably the reason why Ulaz had been so terribly amused to hear about the downfall of his mistakes in the privacy of their own quarters at the end of such very long days.

While they had told him new recruit, they had meant it in the sense that he had absolutely zero idea how to operate within the Blade’s chain of command. Nor was he expected to- they were a secretive organization at their core. Anyone who heard of such things would indicate that there was a breach within the organization, and that would mean nothing good for anyone.

However, Thace wasn’t _completely_ useless in terms of his experience. He hadn’t been lucky enough to avoid many skirmishes with the Empire, and had seen far more than some of the younglings that had been brought to their agents out of sheer desperation. No, Thace had been on the front lines and seen action as a rebel fighter, and was much more resistant to follow the new line of command that he now found himself serving under.

One of the many restrictions being that he would see no active duty until he had passed his trials and he had earned the right to go back out into the field as a Blade of Marmora.

That was not something that had gone over well, at all.

It led to many, many arguments over when he would be allowed back to the fight, citing how seasoned he was compared to some of the others. Kolivan wouldn’t deny that he did have some skill, but his methodology was shaky at best and he needed to not only learn his weaknesses, but accept them before he got himself killed over it. Including, but limited to, his overconfidence and overwhelming arrogance.

Those were the days that Kolivan would admit he rather enjoyed training.

However much Thace grouched about it, there was no denying that he was learning, albeit slowly. It was in part due to his thick skull- something that Ulaz always chuckled about when Kolivan described it to him in frustration, venting his feelings on being charged with one of the most cantankerous new Blades in orns. Ulaz would simply shake his head, running his claws gently through Kolivan’s long white crest with great patience until his mate had settled down.

Kolivan and Ulaz publicly declared themselves bonded shortly after they had been retrieved from their first mission on that disastrous backwater planet. Leader had not been pleased by any stretch of the imagination, but there was hardly anything that they could really do about it now, and there was no denying how well the pair worked together both in and out of the field. The hardest part on either end were the missions that they were separated for- considering the no-contact rule that kept them all alive, it was a stressful ordeal. It simply made the times that they reunited a reminder to the naysayers of what exactly the Blade were fighting for every time one of them were sent out to fight back against the Empire.

(That, and the fact that no one else in the universe could possibly put up with either males occasionally abrasive natures.)

Well, perhaps other than Antok, but Antok got along with everyone. Despite his rather intimidating stature, he was quiet and friendly enough; Kolivan frequently brought him into training scenarios with Thace, which proved immensely satisfying on several accounts. Partially due to the fact that trying to take Antok down was like trying to wrestle a weblum barehanded and blind. No love lost between any of them there.

Perhaps the scenario Kolivan _should_ have prepared for was that there was a distinct possibility that Thace and Ulaz would immediately hit it off.

From the first time Thace had limped into the med bay, muttering darkly about Kolivan and Antok, Ulaz had found a kindred spirit in expressing his feelings for his difficult mate. Not to mention that due to Kolivan’s newly bestowed role in the leadership of the Blade, he was pulled away from Ulaz much more frequently than in cycles past.

Which, as it turned out, left far too much time for idle gossip; Kolivan wasn’t stupid enough to try and stop Ulaz from doing what he pleased, so he left it alone. His mate was perfectly capable of making his own decisions- stars help him if he ever tried to tell him otherwise.

Which he did, every now and then. Usually not his best ideas.

**-**

The first time Ulaz pulled Kolivan side, his features were set in an expression Kolivan couldn’t quite decipher. It made him uneasy, being unable to see or guess what his mate was thinking. However, Ulaz proposing a tentative thought of extending their relationship for a third was not even on the radar.

Granted, he couldn’t say that it was _entirely_ unexpected. Galra by nature were known for groups of up to five mates- stemming from some long-lost pack mentality that had been crushed under Zarkon’s iron heel.

When pressed, Ulaz refused to say who his first choice would be. Suspicious, knowing just how opinionated the medic could be. Kolivan had his suspicions, but he decided to wait and allow Ulaz to come to him when he was ready. In the meantime, he watched, waited, and continued to train Thace in the ways of the Blade.

There was no doubt that Thace was settling into this new life. He was still abrasive- likely always would be, but it was more endearing than anything the longer that he remained on base. Kolivan was positive that there would always be some measure of aggressive passiveness in regard to their personal relationships.

Antok finds the entire situation endlessly amusing; no matter the amount of griping from Kolivan, the gentle giant simply shrugs one shoulder and smirks at him from behind that mask.

(Kolivan has never seen Antok without the mask, but smug amusement _radiates_ off of the grelching offspring of a weblum, and that tells him everything he needs to know of the matter.)

He would make a good mate, Kolivan thinks from time to time. But Antok has made his boundaries succinctly clear given his past under Zarkon’s command- Kolivan resigns himself to taking whatever he is offered.

It isn’t until Kolivan, Antok and Ulaz are sent along with Thace on his first sabotage mission as a Blade that his temperamental mate decides to say anything about the matter of including a third. Which, come to think of it, was entirely in character for Ulaz.

Perhaps it was the unspoken tension that caused Thace to accidentally trip the alarm and set three of their explosives off before they’ve made it to their evacuation point. Amid the firefight; Antok covering Ulaz’s back and Kolivan off trying to get Thace out of a sticky situation with a small horde of sentries- Ulaz deigns shout over the noise if Kolivan and Thace would be interested in creating a trine.

Antok almost trips with how hard his laughter shakes him; the look on both the other males’ faces is too much to pass the opportunity up.

Kolivan chews them all out in the pod back to base, his features a distinctly flushed violet as he refuses to look either Thace or Antok in the eye. Thace appears to be attempting to puzzle out Ulaz’s words with a deep concentration that should be reserved for far more serious things than the one at hand.

However, it does not stop any of the trio from vanishing off toward Kolivan and Ulaz’s shared quarters for what Antok suspects to be a mating romp in their nest.

Some part of Antok longs to be included in that easy kind of love, but he squashes it down as he lumbers off to Leader’s rooms to report on the mission.


	3. Act III: Kolivan and Antok

**Act III: Kolivan**

Hanahaki is a strange condition. One that stems from the ancient days of pure-blooded Galra, it was “bred” out of the bloodlines of Zarkon’s soldiers; viewed a weakness in the ranks. Now, only select lines of Galra and hybrids carry the recessive gene of the condition.

Kolivan knew he had the potential to carry it. His dam had warned him of the possibility many varga ago- he just never suspected that he would live to see it slowly consume him from the inside out.

The lighting in his empty room is bleak as he sits on the floor, his forearms upright and displaying the delicate roots that have begun to weave their way through his veins. The flowers are a grey-tinted yellow to contrast the thick, ashy roots that have begun to twist their way out of the fur and wind around his biceps.

Death had always been inevitable in the ranks of the Blade; never a question of if, always the unspoken when.

And yet, he had never foreseen losing _Ulaz_. Losing _Thace_.

He has no more tears to grieve their loss. Now, a hollow, empty hole remains where his heart might have been. If he were to tear out the charred remnants of his chest, he knows the only thing that would be left are the sharp barbs of the stems of the flowers.

A wounded noise leaves his throat as he closes his hands and leans forward into himself. His instincts say that he needs his pack to hold and whisper adorations into the still air, but there is no pack to turn to.

They are gone.

Ulaz was easy to love. He moved with an easy grace that spoke to the confidence he held within himself and his abilities, always able to calm those in crisis and bring some measure of normalcy to the world that they lived in.

But behind closed doors, he was fire incarnate, burning every inch of skin he could lay his hands on. More than once, he had pinned Kolivan to walls or doors and whispered the things he could do to him before sauntering off like nothing had ever happened. More often than not, he was the one to take control of the situation, leaving Kolivan content to hand over the role.

Thace… Thace was something like both of them. In their early days it was clear he was uncertain of what to do within the confines of their trine, never having been given the kind of affection that was now freely offered in their everyday lives.

But once he settled in… he was one of the most affectionate in any situation. It was a deceptive front, considering how prickly he pretended to be in front of anyone else. Once they left the public eye, he was reduced to a content puddle of contentment as they groomed each other. Even in their sexual activities, the other preferred to play the role of the submissive, taking everything that they gave with eager learning and would later reciprocate in ways that left the other two wondering where he stored so much energy.

Gone.

The world had tilted on its axis, leaving Kolivan hanging off the edge into the void and wondering how long he had left before joining his lovers in the next life.

Antok had been trying to gently coax him out of his rooms when he wasn’t needed as Leader.

It was still his role regardless of anything else that had happened, and he played the role well as needed. But it felt like a sentence with the layers of eyes watching his every move otherwise. Pity circulated the base in hushed whispers and sympathetic but grim reminders that this was the price of daring to reach for something precious amidst the war.

Kolivan loathed the public attention. He had been turned into an example. One that would stand as a stark reminder that this war was far from over.

* * *

**Act III: Antok**

Antok had seen many things in the great number of years he had been a Blade. Given his heritage as a hybrid, his lifespan was one that he had long since given up attempting to measure. He had seen great and terrible horrors of the war Zarkon raged against the universe; seen the rise and fall of planets and rebellions. He had seen many sides of the coins that exchanged hands, played many roles before coming to rest in his current position.

Medic. Freedom fighter. Rebel. A soldier for the Empire.

None of them the same as the glorified tales the elders who had survived spoke of in hushed whispers in the dark corners of illusive safety.

Coming to the Blade, he had given all of it up in lieu of becoming a saboteur. His larger than average size placed him at a greater disadvantage as an agent on ships for intelligence gathering, and thus he had been given the role of sabotage. One hit attacks where the information the Blade needed was pried form a mainframe and decoded before he got the frag off of the floating time-bomb of ships that he made of them.

Dangerous, but rewarding.

Many of his scars had come from those missions. Times in which the explosives had gone off too soon, or he had become trapped and under fire. Missions where he had run headlong into danger and barely staggered out of it alive.

Missions where he had been caught.

It was one such mission that Leader had perished, leaving Kolivan to take up the mantle. He had the skills and the experience necessary to continue the legacy of rebellion left behind, bolstered by his mates and the near unanimous support of the Blade.

Choosing Antok as his second had been a surprise, however. He hardly thought himself the type for leadership, but Antok would admit that he and Kolivan made an effective team throughout the field. With the Galra already familiar with him, it was hardly a surprise to find him lurking in the ships, but the scale to which they grew was astounding. Missions that no one had thought of attempting were put into play, long term intelligence in which the stakes had never been higher.

They were the Blade of Marmora.

Despite the few connections that any of them made, they were brothers in arms, sisters in arms. A pack that would never be pulled apart by distance or by death.

-

There are things that Antok does not speak of.

The mission that took his left eye and scarred most of his face. The reason that he rarely ever removes his mask- the only times he feels comfortable enough are in the quiet moments stolen in his quarters when the walls feel like they’re closing in on him and the sounds of long passed ghosts ring in his ears.

His well-hidden feelings toward Kolivan- by extension, his pack.

It was hard not to find affection for the younger Galra. Kolivan had a light that had not been extinguished by the things he had seen. Passionate, loyal, abrasive in ways that Antok could only describe as a kit-ling facing off against something much larger than itself.

Kolivan had asked, early on in their companionship, if ever he would consider taking a mate.

Antok had considered, even if but for a moment, saying yes.

But there were too many memories dredged up at the idea of perhaps asking for something more. Asking to cross that line that he had been very careful in crafting. It was a fight that he struggled with every time he watched the soft look that came over the other male when he looked at Ulaz or Thace. The quick touches in places that traditionally spoke for mated pairs.

It is not the first thing Zarkon has taken from him, however roundabout or indirectly.

-

Antok is no stranger to loss.

Kolivan losing both Thace and Ulaz within the span of a handful of cycles was one of the hardest things any of them had to watch.

One blow and Kolivan had been struck to his knees. By the second, it didn’t seem as though he would resurface. The trio had met while they were young, forging their lives together as they grew into the roles that the Blade pushed them into.

Antok had known all three of them well outside of their professional statuses. He had already been well on his way to being close with Kolivan by the time Ulaz came into the picture, willing to reach out a hand of friendship to the new figure in their lives. Considering how new Ulaz had been to the societal structure of the Blade, they had a friendly rapport from training together.

He had grieved deeply; was still grieving deeply- for both of their losses.

Antok had never known his kin.

He was told, once he had been old enough to hear it, that he had been orphaned by a raid on the planet his sire and dam had taken refuge upon in their flight from the Empire. One Galra parent, the other a race few could pronounce, he was already a target. It was a miracle he had survived the attack at all.

The Blade had found him buried under rubble, barely old enough to be on his own. They had taken him in and reared him from youngling to adult.

It was why he could not allow any more of those he cared for to be lost. He knew of the condition afflicting Kolivan and knew what it stood for. He knew that Leader only had so much time left before he was lost to the void as well.

He would make his attempts to save Kolivan from himself; even if he failed, he could say he had done everything in his ability to ensure that the worst did not come to pass.


	4. Act IV: Conclusion

**Act IV: Conclusion**

It went without saying that Antok’s gentleness baffled Kolivan.

He had resigned himself to his fate; an old, loveless Galra far past his prime and skirting death. But it seemed that Antok refused to leave his side even now.

It wasn’t unusual. Not after all of the years that they had known one another, fought next to one another and shed blood together. But it did make a difference when his Second took his activity one step further. Whenever Kolivan left his quarters, Antok was close behind- not unlike a worried caretaker fretting over their charge.

Every time they found themselves alone, Antok would sit next to him and lean into his shoulder as they read reports, quietly pointing out the small details that either of them had missed during their first perusals.

He kept watch when the first rounds of flowers were hurriedly choked from clogged lungs, ashen yellow in their symbolic presence.

Pulled Kolivan into his chest and allowed a tentative rumbling purr to rattle through his frame when he shivered from a sudden chill.

Antok toed the lines in the sand he had drawn years before, unwilling to overstep when he had already told Kolivan no once. And yet, he was in pain and Antok could do something to help ease some of those pains.

He blurred the line, ever so slightly.

Kolivan did not sleep. Not to the amount that he had with his mates, no true sense of peace calming the raging storm that Antok could almost see brewing behind his gaze. And so he worked- endlessly, tirelessly, grinding himself down to the bone to try and lose himself from the stark reality he would face each time he went back to his empty quarters and abandoned nest.

To their allies, nothing was amiss. Kolivan’s mask was worn with familiarity, forged ages ago when he had stepped up to become Leader. But to anyone on base, they all saw the weight that had attached itself to his limbs, the dark shadows that haunted his features, the shakiness to his hands.

Antok went to retrieve him one night, knowing that he had been working for almost two cycles straight with no rest between. Wordlessly, he turned off the console, refusing to listen to the frustrated growl that left Kolivan’s throat as he turned to glare at his Second.

“You need to rest.”

“I need to work.” Kolivan snapped back curtly.

Antok growled back, his lip curling at the frankly kit-like behavior Kolivan was displaying. He felt the sparse hair on his shoulders prickle beneath the thick layer of armor on his shoulders, knowing it was a dominance display.

Wordlessly, he stalked over to Kolivan, scooping him easily into his arms, before silently headed to his rooms. If Kolivan refused to take care of himself, Antok would ensure that he did. Even with anxiety prickling across his skin, he did not let it bother him as he keyed in his print not to Kolivan’s rooms, but his own.

The male in question seemed to realize that something had shifted, but he remained quiet as Antok set him down on his bed. He had no nest to speak of- it would only serve to remind him he had no mate to share it with, no mate to craft it alongside him and spend long nights entwined in the fabric walls. The current sleeping arrangements aside, he had never invited another into his space, and it showed in the thick hesitation that settled into his every inch.

“Rest.” He said again, settling down across from the bed, massive form against the door.

Kolivan watched him warily, but it wasn’t long before exhaustion caught up to him and he slept.

-

It became normal for Kolivan to spend the nights in Antok’s quarters after that night. After it became clear that Kolivan intended to actually rest and not attempt to escape to go back to work, Antok blurred the lines further by sleeping next to the other male. It was a matter of comfort more often than not. Kolivan was accustomed to having others nearby to stimulate pack instincts- he was simply assisting in what ways he was able.

-

“Ulaz wanted to invite you into our pack.” Kolivan says quietly, chin resting against Antok’s chest. His gaze is faraway, fixed on something the larger male cannot see. “But I had told him you said no.”

Soft amber slides over to meet Antok’s dark gold, some unreadable expression lying within the depths.

“You wanted to say yes, didn’t you.”

Antok tries to shrug, but it’s stiff, half aborted. He can’t deny that he wanted a relationship, but he knew he was too damaged for such things. Too many things that he had suffered in Zarkon’s fleet as a soldier and as a prisoner left deep scars. Some deeper than others.

“It did not matter.” He says instead, mask still firmly in place. It’s a literal thing- there’s too much intimacy, too much trust involved with allowing someone to see his face at the best of times. Here, lying in the dark with a warm body tucked against him, is almost too much. It’s overwhelming and Antok constantly has to remind himself that he is safe here.

“It did.” Kolivan says, and there’s something in his tone that suggests he knows something Antok doesn’t. “It does.”

-

Antok disregards the lines entirely one night as Kolivan dozes against him. He quietly tells the tales of his past, the things he suffered and the things that changed him in ways that would ruin him. Speaks of the longing he felt for so long to have a fragment of the same joy and warmth that Kolivan and his mates had been lucky enough to find. Remembers fondly of small things that Ulaz and Thace did while Kolivan was away or otherwise occupied with his duties- the pair had acted more like younglings than members of the Blade at times.

Finally, he admits that he had wanted to say yes to Kolivan’s first offer, before he had met Ulaz or Thace or fallen down the track that he had to come where he was now. Admits that the affection he held had remained for all those years, packed tightly into a corner with all of the other things that he knew he could not compromise.

“You deserved the best. Even if it were not with me.”

It’s a goodbye.

It’s been blatantly clear that Kolivan is not getting better. No substitutions for the bonds that his heart had forged with others; no tricking the illness that plagued him and ate away at him every cycle.

“And if I thought you were the best?” Kolivan says drily. Antok can hear the deeply hidden fear in the words.

“You do not want me.”

“Don’t tell me what I want.” There is fire in the words.

Antok smiles, small and amused behind his mask.

-

Antok allows himself to be pinned as Kolivan carefully strips them both of their clothing. He assists with some of the buckles and hood when Kolivan winces, knowing without having to see that stems and roots caught on the fabric and tugged painfully at his skin.

He is careful as he traces the vines that ripple just under Kolivan’s skin, eyes solemn behind his mask.

Kolivan is delicate as he tucks his claws around the edges of Antok’s mask, one finger on the release catch. If he were to say no, Antok is well aware Kolivan would allow him this one thing, willing to allow him to feel as comfortable as he is able to in the situation. But he makes no move to stop him, and Kolivan’s features soften as he pulls the mask up and away.

He knows he is scarred; one eye missing, several long scars running down his jaw. There are two deep lines that trace horizontally from one side of his face to the other. A scar from a muzzle.

Kolivan does not recoil. With everything they have seen, it is without doubt that they have scars from their lives. Antok’s lifespan is enough that he has lived several lifetimes; thus, his flesh reflects it.

Neither of them make a sound as they quietly explore the other, hands and lips finding places more sensitive than others. Kolivan is treated as delicately as glass with the living plants growing out of his skin, Antok rolling to pin the other to the bed.

“You are allowed to grieve them.” He says firmly, without bite as he leans down to press a kiss to the tangled mess of roots over his heart.

“You are allowed to remember.”

He traces a small spattering of scars he knows Kolivan received while on a mission with Thace. The largest is on his side; the one that had brought he and Ulaz together. Others he recognizes as ones he was unable to prevent on solo missions.

Kolivan’s eyes are suspiciously damp, but he doesn’t make a sound until Antok slides into him with easy grace. A whimper leaves the smaller of the pair; claws digging into Antok’s thighs as he holds him still. A soft sound of concern leaves Antok’s throat, but Kolivan shakes his head in reply. Overwhelming on both accounts.

Their coupling slow and gentle. Antok treats Kolivan like he is the most precious thing he has ever seen, only going as far as Kolivan will allow him. Despite the dark shadows that threaten to creep behind his eyes, Antok finds that for once his thoughts are not as bad as they once were. Kolivan reaches up to cup Antok’s cheek in his hand, thumb stroking along one of the long scars before shuddering and climaxing around him.

It isn’t a happy ending. Both of them can acknowledge that as Antok curls around Kolivan afterward. There is too much history, too much unspoken hurt for everything to be fixed.

But it is a promise of a new beginning.


End file.
